To Swing on a Star
by berseker25
Summary: It's their wedding anniversary, and England has a meaningful surprise for America.


America opened his eyes to see England leaning over him and touching his hair.

They were in his bedroom, and just that was enough to make America very happy. He loved seeing England here, on his bed. Of course, he loved to see him anywhere, but still. It was probably what had woken him up, now that he was thinking about it. The sheer happiness of having him so close, and knowing he would have him forever.

That or the open curtains, but America didn't mind the light much – not like England, who couldn't sleep unless everything was completely dark - so it was probably the happiness. And the way England was touching his hair, running his fingers thought the strands and then back, trying to get Nantucket to behave. It felt so nice that it made America shiver, and give him a still half-asleep smile.

England smiled back. He was usually very grumpy in the mornings, but today was special, so he was probably making an extra effort to be nice. It was working. The light from the window made his hair shine, and he looked almost magical, with all the light and the soft blush on his cheeks. He kissed America's lips, and America has a brief moment of panic because he had just woken up and hadn't even brushed his teeth or anything yet, but England didn't pull away in disgust, so America sort of forgot about it because he couldn't keep thinking things like that when England was just waking him up with kisses. This was just it, it was exactly the reason why America had agreed to this. This was what he had envisioned that day so long ago when they sort of proposed at the same time only not because England didn't stutter half as much as he did. Waking up to see him there, getting sleepy kisses and sunshine. England caressing his hair and smiling at him. Just this.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said.

"'Morning, love," England said. Anniversaries always him... softer, somehow. It made him look at America like that, his green eyes so tender. He went to the kitchen, and then he brought America coffee and bacon and slightly burnt eggs. America liked his... well, not burnt, but England was so obviously trying to please him, that he didn't mind. He wouldn't have minded if his plan for this day had been just that, spending the rest of the day cuddling in bed.

Not that it would. Last year America had made a big show with fireworks and airplanes writing their names with smoke in the sky. England was probably still embarrassed about that, but he would want to do something special too. So when England smiled and told him they were going somewhere, after all, but he wouldn't tell where until they get there, America agreed. He would have agreed with anything.

They got into the car, and England drove for a while. And then more. And then he kept driving. Then he stopped for McDonalds – that was sweet of him, America thought, because he hadn't asked yet – and then he kept driving. He was doing that on purpose, wasn't he? To say how far he could go before driving - ha!- America insane? He tried to touch England's leg when he finished his Big Mac, just to show him he was completely okay with driving forever and spending their special day on a car, but England just told him to stop, because... well, because it was dangerously distracting, he could hit a street sign and that would ruin his mood.

This made America smile.

"But I'll be allowed to, right? When we get wherever we're going?"

Assuming they would get there one day, of course.

"Well," England said, blushing to the roots of his hair, "Of course. If you're still interested."

"I'm always interested," America said, and squeezed his thigh to prove it, but that made England yelp, so he stopped. It would be really stupid, to make England crash the car now.

England blushed harder, but he didn't say anything. He kept driving, until they reached the beach.

_Finally, _America thought, getting out of the car. England should have warned him, he would have brought his swimming googles. But when he started to complain, England circled his waist with his arms, pressing his cheek against America's shoulder, and didn't even answer.

America hugged him back. Forget the googles, this was better. He was always so amazed at how well England fit inside his arms, and how sweet and comfortable that felt, holding him, and feeling him melt against his chest – because England always started out like a plank, honestly, straight back and stiff body and all, but when he relaxed he felt warm and soft and America couldn't get enough of it.

The beach was fun. It was too cold to swim anyway, England told him, so they walked along the shore, and England held his hand. It was usually America who had to take his first, so this was extra awesome, and he had to be careful so he wouldn't squeeze too hard. He loved worrying about things like that. How to touch him, how to hold him, how to kiss him, all of it. Finding out things that England would like. Finding out ways to please him. Not having to backpedal and hide and come up with excuses when he wanted to be nice.

When the sun was setting, they stopped to watch. It made America think silly thoughts about how beautiful it was, and how the sky was blue and the sun looked red now and with the clouds it was all red and blue and white, and they shared the same colors, and that meant the sky approved and he was wondering how he could explain it to England without sounding crazy when England said,

"You must be disappointed."

"I- what?"

"Over the lack of... exploding things. Fireworks and whatnot. But I assure you, I-"

"No, wait, what? Of course I'm not! I was just thinking about how much I love you!"

That made England gasp, which America should have seen it coming, really, but he took the chance to say, "And really, it's fine. I love the beach. I'm loving this. So don't worry, ok?"

"America-"

He waited. But then England squeezed his hand, and his voice softened even more. "Were you actually thinking that?"

"Sure I was! I think about it all the time!"

England looked away, and America knew he would be trying to hide a smile. For some weird England reason. It had been like that last year, too. And the year before. He had a shy lover, what could he say. Not lover, husband. Well, lover too. But still. He held his hand even tighter:

"I'm just so glad you're here."

"Hm. Well. I'm happy too. But I want to show you something."

And he somehow managed to make it sound proper and stodgy and so _British_, that it made America smile.

The thing he wanted to show was a boat. A normal wooden boat that looked a little worse for the wear but hey, it would be an adventure, right? And England wouldn't get them killed right on their wedding anniversary. Probably.

Oh well. America could totally save him, if something happened.

They dragged the boat to the water, and then England made him enter it first:

"I brought you here," he said, "So I'll take care of this."

America wasn't sure he liked that, England rowing alone and making all the work. But when he said that England just snorted at him.

"Don't try to be a hero now, America, just relax."

"But I can do this! I like it, really, it's no trouble at all-"

"Don't be silly. Of course it is, so just- enjoy the view and let me handle it, will you."

America almost pouted. It felt weird. And he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with his hands, so he crossed his arms, and then uncrossed and held the sides of the boat, and then crossed them again. He could hear the oars hitting the water, the soft splash and England's breath, and he should be helping.

But at least the view was good. The sky was dark now, and the stars glittered like marcasite over black velvet – well, dark blue velvet, really, but anyway, and there were so _many_that all the constellations were easy to find, even the ones he never got to see when he was downtown. It was fascinating. He could imagine England looking up at them centuries ago, figuring out ways across the ocean, the stars leading his way to him. To America.

Then England stopped, held America's face with both hands and kissed him, his mouth warm and soft with a faint taste of tea.

"Now," he said, still holding his face, still close enough for America to feel his breath over his lips, "Look at the water."

... come on, America thought, dazed, just _kiss_me, but he looked anyway.

And.

Wow.

The water mirrored every detail of the sky. It was like they were floating over a pool of sparkling light, he could even recognize them, and it was weird to see the stars inverted like that, but this had everything, the sense of depth and the distance between them and he had never seen the sea reflect the sky so perfectly and- wow.

"Last year, you said- you said you wanted to show everyone how you felt. Remember?"

"Yes," America whispered, still mesmerized. He touched the water with the tip of his finger, trying to break the illusion. The stars flickered for half a second and then came back to the way they were before, right beneath the water. It made him want to reach out and take one in his hand.

"So," England said. Now he was blushing again, America could tell even in the dark, "I- well. I wanted to show you. What you do to... to my world. How _I_feel. You fill my life with stars. Like those - silly fireworks of yours. You make my world more beautiful every day, so- I'm glad we're here. I'm glad you're with me. I appreciate it."

"So am I," America said. His voice sounded soft, even to himself. He should make some sort of speech, but now he couldn't think of anything. Just- all the fireworks and exploding shiny things he would have to use to top this, to show England how much he loved him, and how glad he was, and... "Thank you. I... thank you."

England smiled. His eyes looked wet, but that could be a trick of the light. Maybe. He held America's chin, then touched his face:

"I love you, that's what I mean," England whispered, and then kissed him.

America closed his eyes. He would say everything later, when he could find the words. Something touching and perfect that England would remember forever, he would. But for now he just kissed him, completely surrounded by stars.


End file.
